Original Contemporary Poetry about the Human Condition

Mackerel Skies | A Poem by Paul Tristram

It feels strange to frownat the heat and brightnessexploding throughmy kitchen window.August was after allso very bleak and grey.Great Admiral’s dance close byand the mackerel skies outsidepull my thoughts and moodto them magnet-like.I find myself memory walkingupon a beach in Bude,barefooted, relaxed and carefree…Scooting blim burnsoff my bare chest,weaving a cider lollypopinto my easy daydreams.As I stand like a Servicemansaluting the deep, blue sea,watching the small bobbing boatsbecome a living bathroom watercolour.‘Oh, this will never do’I yank myself back outof my thoughts by the scruff.I was meant to write a short storyabout a man who cuts his own foot off.But all that can wait, I guess,whilst this weather will not,I’ll be in a seaside beer gardena couple of hours before early evening.